


The Life and Times of Bucky Barnes

by awbucks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, Bucky Barnes Feels, FTM, Gen, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, bucky barnes is a good noodle, bucky is a trans man in this, but only because he is realizing who he is, deadnaming, not good binding techniques, pronouns are used to show change, random drabbles i wrote, steve is a good sassy friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 20:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12516128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awbucks/pseuds/awbucks
Summary: These are just a collection of my drabbles relating to Bucky both finding his identity as a transman in the 30s and 40s and coming into it.  There is some deadnaming due to his situation but once he comes out to himself, he no longer uses either the name or pronouns personally.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey hope yall enjoy :)   
> and just for context, whenever Bucky uses his deadname or she/her pronouns, it's because he hasn't really realized himself yet.

Jeanette stared at herself in the mirror, hair pinned up and dress hanging on the door knob. She was going to Mrs. Anderson’s with her ma today, for tea and cakes and gossiping. That’s all it was, no matter how they all tried to claim it was some neighborly get together. Since she turned fifteen, she’d been brought along on these outings. Most outings, really. She was the oldest, and thus, had to be responsible.

Jeanie hated it. Well...no. She didn’t mind being in charge of her siblings, not really. It was her pantyhose and skirts and sweaters with pins. Her waist long hair and soft rose lipstick Ma had gifted her. Why the hell did she have to dress up like a sideshow attraction when Tommy could just waltz outta the house with nothing more than a little pomade in his hair. She began pulling up the tights, careful to not rip them. It wasn’t so much a problem for Jeanie as it was for Becks, given that she kept her nails short and never painted them, but a ripped stocking was still money outta her purse. Steve had gotten a wallet just recently, a leather one. He put it in the back pocket of his pants and never had to worry about carrying a pocketbook around. Lucky stiff. 

“M’here, ma.” She smiled, walking over to her mother in the parlor. She’d put on one of her nicer dresses, she’d fixed it up when Ma had brought it home from the tailors; a cast off. It had taken a little stitching and stuff, but Jeanie had made it work. Joked a couple times about making it into shorts, but had shut up when her ma started givin’ her looks. 

“Y’ready?” Her mother stood, change purse under her arm like the starlet she’d wanted to be and coat firmly buttoned up her chest. Jeanie pushed her arms through her own jacket and nodded, following her out the door and down the steps. Mrs. Anderson’s was a block and a half away. It was a little icy, but they’d both been wearing their heeled shoes long enough to balance in them no matter the weather. Even if they pinched their toes and forced Jeanie’s body into a pose she’d rather not perform. But that was just like everything else in life, huh? It couldn’t be helped. She was just born with it all, and the discomfort was part of becoming a woman. That’s what her ma had said besides. Didn’t matter if she wanted saddle shoes or short hair or to wear cologne or pitch on the varsity team. ‘Cause the ways things were are how they ought to be, right? Jeanie couldn’t be something she wasn’t.


	2. And He Liked that Just Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky comes out to himself

When Jeanie first met Stevie she was five and he was four and a half. Almost five, but not quite. She remembers that clearly because she’d told him such. She was older. Stronger too. It didn’t matter after that, though. Because they both were strong and weak. When Steve would get cornered by bullies, Jeanie’d saunter in with her curves and pretty mouth and he’d duck out. Stevie hated that, getting out like a cheater, was what he called it, and not fighting his way, but there were some times that it was either that or a broken arm. And his ma just couldn’t take that right now. 

Stevie was the man outta them though. Could get them into the moving pictures and outta church and all the things a lady like her couldn’t do. Even if everyone thought he was a queer ‘cause he was small and liked to draw, he was still more a man than Jeanie. With that flat chest and short hair of his. 

Then Tommy went and died on them all. On his ma and on his father and on Becky and on George and on Penny. When he died the house fell into darkness. Tommy was the light to Jeanie’s dusk and the quiet to her brash. She loved her brother. Had spent the most time with him outta all the kids. Was probably cause he was only a year and a half younger but probably also ‘cause he let her wear his trousers and suspenders and button up shirts. Let her read the male parts of Tale of Two Cities ‘cause she liked to be a man better. 

All that darkness allowed for shadows as well. Ma had pulled a veil over her eyes and never looked up from her coffee and rum. Her old man worked all he could to stay in the light. Counting other folks change and bills and only kissed their foreheads come Friday night. The kids clung to her like she was a mama and they were her kids. Felt like it now. 

Jeanie had been put in charge of going through Tommy’s things. Most of it was packed away for George, he was still just a kid, but Jeanie stole some trousers and shirts and his pair of saddle shoes and put them into a cardboard box under her bed. She brought them out in the dark of night or when over at Stevie’s. His ma worked so much they often have the apartment to themselves. 

She was sixteen when she groped at her breasts and grimaced at her hair for the final time. She ungratefully mashed a tube of lipstick against her palm and took her Ma’s damn fabric shears and cut her hair off. 

Her mother had told her that if she’d been born a boy, her name would’a been James Buchanan. James Buchanan Barnes. 

And he liked that just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed :)


End file.
